Essays on the Life of a Band Student
by Shadow Dragon
Summary: This is an actual essay I wrote for my band director. A typical day of band camp and what do the words "One More Time!" really mean?


A/N: This is an actual essay I wrote for Band. Seriously. When O'Malley (the director) says "Write me a two-page essay on any musical topic" he doesn't know what he's in for. I hope to put my friend's literary analysis of the Great Band War in here, too, so stay tuned.

Connotation versus Denotation: What do Band Directors _Really_ Mean?

By Shadow Dragon

The temperature is nearing or over one hundred degrees, Fahrenheit. Most people are inside, sipping iced lemonades and watching movies or surfing the Internet. They are taking advantage of their summer vacations, but you are not. Instead, you are standing in your old worn pair of Nike's and that pair of shorts from seventh grade that you swore you would never wear after the chocolate shake incident, sweating away that Coke slushie you drank for lunch. Nobody should be out in this beastly heat, but you are not alone. Even the Pon Pom squad, who practices on a football field just like you, is inside in the cool air of the gym, drinking Diet Cokes and eating celery sticks. But you are outside, clutching a hot instrument in your sweating hands and wishing you hadn't downed that water bottle in one gulp.

Your mind starts to drift; you have been standing in the same set for about half an hour, waiting for the massive trumpet section to straighten out their sets and positions so that the show can continue. Camp for the day will be coming to a close soon—the sun is sweltering in its position near the 3 o'clock setting. Letting your thoughts fade, you glance over at the rest of your section. They are talking and complaining about the heat, dressed in light colored tank tops and shorts very similar to your own. One of the members, your friend, glances over at you and manages a sunburned grin before turning back to the conversation. You stay silent, too tired to do much but march and stand.

"Let's get this right! One more time!" hollers the director from his podium. One of the drum majors, the sophomore on grunt duty, starts to pound out a beat—the tempo to the song you are working on. Although you know it will not be 'one more time' or anything close, you sigh and raise your instrument to your lips. You flinch as it burns; the mouthpiece has been exposed to too much sun and is therefore about the temperature of a kiln.

The director waves his arms like a monkey and the band starts to move, staggering from formation to formation. You follow your friend, taking meticulous care to stay on step—left, right, left, right, left… Twelve measures later, the director cuts you off in exasperation and proceeds to shout out some encouraging lecture over the loudspeaker. You listen with one ear, not really paying attention as you let your eyes wander over the skyline in hopes of seeing a Red-Tailed Hawk or some equally interesting species of bird. Birdwatching has become your hobby since band camp started.

As soon as the fateful phrase, "One More Time!", is uttered, you tromp back to the previous position to try the process again. Again, you stay in step and on position while the director attempts to direct, and again you hear an encouraging lecture, reworded for variety. As "One More Time!" comes again, you head back to the spot you just vacated. You are caught in a loop, you are quite positive of this now.

"I can't believe they keep making us repeat _twelve measures_!" your friend complains, running a hand through her sweat-damp hair. "This is absolutely ridiculous!"

You agree as you watch the trumpet players try to fix themselves for the third time in two hours. Now the clarinets are having a problem as well, and are standing in chattering groups while the leaders try to sort everything out. Sighing, you sit down in your spot and glance around. The rest of the low winds section is sitting as well, each member perfectly on his or her spot. 

By the time you head home, you are quite sure you know the meaning of "One More Time!" "One More Time!" is not to be taken in the terms most regular people would use. Translated literally, "One" in _The Great Band Dictionary_, actually means "Four or more." "Time" is translated to be an incomprehensible number, somewhere between one and ten. So, literally, this saying means "More than four or more times an unidentified number." An easy translation is, "You're going to do this until you get it right or you won't go home!" They used the words "One More Time!" to give future band students an optimistic saying to believe. 

Kind of makes you want to slug something, doesn't it?


End file.
